The Scarlet Wraith
by Talek Darkbrook
Summary: A masked hero from the realm of Mossflower. Okay. Fourth part up. I watch too much Zorro. Reviews welcomed happily; flames and all! Because it still means you read it. :)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall or Mossflower or anything created by Brian Jacques, because he owns that. I own the OC's, and any town that came from my mind.

The Scarlet Wraith

In fairly recent times, we, as a civilisation, have enjoyed and been fascinated by the world of superheroes. Masked vigilantes and villains invade our minds and captivate us in their deeds and duels, but in their worlds, they did not only exist in the modern era. One can name, Zorro or The Scarlet Pimpernel perhaps.

Our story begins in Mossflower, many, many seasons after Triss the swordmaid had lived and died, in the snowy northlands within the walls of an industrial city known as Odigin...

In the past seasons, Odigin had grown immensely. The city extended its influence over much of the surrounding pine forests, taxing the smaller villages or destroying those who refused to obey its laws.

It was the pride and idea of an evil Ferret, Dragnet. He had seen it built by many slaves and arms beasts in order to create a place for forging steel weapons in great numbers. Of course, this attracted many more beasts looking for work and soon Odigin was flourishing. The city passed into the paws of his nephew, Dulan, on Dragnet's death. Dulan was a very good city lord, lowering taxes to a fair rate, treating every beast well and equal and so, was hated by the richer nobles and lords of the place. A plot to kill him was successful, with a former minor Lady, a stoat jill by the name of Farda Ryut taking the place of ruler. She quickly earned herself the nickname of The Black Wound for her favourite torture of a whip, metal tipped, and coated in adder's venom for anybeast she happened to dislike. It was a dark time for Odigin. Taxes were raised higher than ever, crime was on the extreme and slavery was legalised once more.

Nobeast would dare challenge Farda's authority, for fear of her tortures and her enforcement guards. An army of vicious wolves, badgers and cloaked beasts that most were not entirely sure about. It was rumoured they were called Wolverines.

Nobeast would challenge this, until one. A mysterious presence began to make itself know in the city. Criminals would flee down the dark alley ways and the guards dreaded their night shifts. Even the rich, untouchable nobles were worried. This presence hunted out those who sinned against the rest of beastkind, defending the good and making the bad wish they were never born.

It was known only as The Scarlet Wraith.


	2. Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall or Mossflower or anything created by Brian Jacques, because he owns that. I own the OC's, and any town that came from my mind.

Rain. In the darkness it plummeted from the thick clouds, drenching the city of Odigin in the darkness of the cold night. Most civilian beasts were tucked away safe in bed, but not Edwin Grib.

Grib was teller of an old bookbinders shop and he had been working late. The Lady of the City had decided the palace library needed to be "refreshed" and now he had an order to bind at least 25 books on her laws, history about her and her family and a large tome containing her family trees, most of which he knew had been embellished quite a bit. And he had just two months to work.

It was a gruelling job, seemingly impossible for him, but he was being paid daily in gold for it, and so, nervously did his best. Tonight he had been working upon the final pages of 'The Laws of Execution in Punishment' and was glad when he had finished, but now the old mouse had to trudge through the dark alleys at night, in the downpour to get home.

He was only a short distance from his home when he heard it. It was the soft click of a crossbow being cocked. This was followed by a point at his back and the words "Money pouch. Now or I drop ya!"

Without turning he began to remove his pouch, trembling and too nervous to speak.

The paw of a large stoat snatched it quickly and the point was taken from his back.

"My thanks, mouse. Your donation is appreciated."

Edwin closed his eyes, breathing a sigh as he heard the stoat begin to shuffle away into the dark, but before the pawfalls faded, there was a cry and a thud.

The mouse turned quickly to see the stoat lying against a wall, unconscious, his money pouch on the ground near to Edwin. A small red ribbon fluttered and sagged in the wind and rain underneath the bag and Edwin looked around to see who had done this. Of course, the answer was already in his mind. He caught a flash of a red cloak upon the roof of a building before it was gone.

"Thankyou..." He whispered as the Scarlet Wraith vanished. He stood for just a little while feeling some shock and recovering his breath and confidence. The stoat groaned as he began to resurface from unconsciousness and Edwin decided it would be a good idea to get home quickly now. He walked hurriedly, unaware that above, amongst the high rooftops, a pair of amber eyes watched him from behind a blood red mask.

With fluid movements, the entity moved across the roof and hopped away to glide to another, it's hooded cloak flapping once gently upon landing. It rose onto its hind paws and walked gracefully across this roof before leaping from the edge and disappearing into the rain and shadows.

Quietly watching from his high tower, the night guard, a fox, shivered in his duty armour. He was not fond of this spectre. It was unnerving, the way it disappeared and moved, and now he had to be on the night shift, in cold uncomfortable armour, in the rain and the knowledge that the wraith was indeed haunting tonight.

"I should have been a librarian..." He muttered between clenched teeth as he shivered, remarking to his partner, an owl "I don't like night shifts... Just us two while that thing runs around..."

The owl turned his head, large eyes glinting as he spoke. "I must agree with you my friend... We owls are spectres in our own rights, but even we seem out matched by the Wraith... I shall be glad for the dawn."

The fox shuddered and put his paw fingers to his muzzle as the owl spoke.

"Ssshhh! Don't say the name. It'll get us!" He whined. "It'll get us just like it got Benny and Radasc!"

The owl shuffled "A thief and a clumsy lower guard... Not to be missed now, are they? They died because they were clumsy and foolish. Stay alert and the Wraith, yes see, I used its name, will not be able to kill us. It is a solid being after all; it can be harmed itself..."

"But... Hey, how'd you know that? It might be a ghost." The fox protested.

"A ghost is not solid. It can't leave boot prints in the mud. The Wraith does. A ghost couldn't harm anything and besides there's no such thing as ghosts." The reply came, the owl sounding a little annoyed.

"There is," The fox retorted "I know 'cus there's all those stories about them that beasts told me."

The owl shook his head, preparing for a long and pointless argument and tried to shuffle away from the fox to the other side of the tower as his partner continued to tell him the "evidence" that ghosts existed.

Dawn. The light gently filtered into the city as it awoke. Beasts made their way to work or duties and the streets bustled with activity.

Farda watched from the high window of the palace, her main servant, a rat by the simple name of George, beside her.

"Look at them George. They bustle about impatiently, gathering wealth, wasting it and trying to gather it up again... They have taxes, yet still, some waste their money. No matter, it all ends up in the same place..."

"Indeed my Lady."

"Such pointless lives... Wake up, work for a meagre amount, home and repeat. Birth, growth, work, die... Pointless, worthless, wouldn't you agree?"

The rat nodded "I would my Lady."

She smiled coldly "And that is where you are wrong. You see, their pointless lives are of most importance. Those miserable creatures are what keep this city, and me, in wealth. They must be kept alive and allowed what they need in general, yet treated in such a way that they will fear to rise up and demand more."

"They could never defeat you, my Lady."

"Hmmph... It is only because I keep them afraid. They do not dare to oppose."

George opened his mouth as he thought of something "The Wraith does not obey your rules." As soon as he said it, he was sure he'd regret that.

"Only because my beasts have not caught it yet!" She spat angrily "I shall be reducing the guard pay and doubling shifts until they do." She turned on the rat. "Now, you know I do not take kindly to beasts accusing me of fault."

Hastily, George backed away, bowing and shaking his head. "Oh, My Lady, I know, I was not accusing, honestly."

"It's okay. I know you weren't, now, come back here," She smiled coldly, patting the wall beside her "I'm not going to hurt you."

Reluctantly the rat did as she said, knowing that if he ran, the guards would take him to punishment anyway. As he reached her, the Lady's paw flashed from her long black robes towards his back. The sharp point of a short dagger penetrated in, not deep enough to kill him soon, but enough to cause excruciating pain. He bent over in pain and then reeled forwards out of the open window as Farda's boot connected with his head.

"The dagger and fall will cause the pain" he heard the words spoken as he felt the sensation of open space. His bloodied body plummeted to the cobblestone ground below with a horrid crunch as his skull split and his vertebrae cracked, knocked out of place. Blood stained the stones around him as he laid dead, his open eyes staring up at Farda's satisfied smile above.

(Author) Well, I hope that was okay for you all. I wasn't sure while I was writing it; I hope it's not too stereotypical or anything. The chapters will get better as I write them I'm sure.

My thanks for the reviews.

Tate-The-Warrior: I am pleased you liked my introduction bit. Yes, it will probably be move to a higher rating on one of the next two chapters.

Avlblu: Thankyou for the review. I was not aware there was a show named Dragnet; I just used the name because it came into my head and I needed a name for him. I am trying not to make it too corny and keep it quite dark. Think 'Batman/ Gotham City' style of dark only a little nastier perhaps and without the strangely altered villains (for the most part)...

I am working on another fanfic which will detail the origins of 'The Scarlet Wraith' and that will probably be uploaded soon. I want to get a couple more chapters of this story up first.

Okay, well, hopefully I shall update again soon. Thanks again for the reviews.


	3. Three

Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall or Mossflower or anything created by Brian Jacques, because he owns that. I own the OC's, and any town that came from my mind.

* * *

CRA-ACK!

The sound echoed through the darkness of the cave. A large badger, dressed all in the hides of other animals, sat upon a rock with his kill, an adult bat. He'd snapped its neck and was now proceeding to tear the wings from the lifeless corpse.

Grinning, the badger put the wings aside for later and turned his attention back to the rest of the corpse. A massive paw gripped its head and, with a ripping sound as the flesh, muscles and blood vessels were torn, decapitated the unfortunate creature.

The large mustelid hummed as he worked; a dark tuneless sound echoing eerily throughout his cave. He worked the knife back and forth, scraping the skull a little with the blade of his long, decorated knife. Gradually, he scraped the flesh away, revealing the bone beneath, until nothing covered the bat's skull.

With a soft squelching and pop, the bat's eyes were removed and, more carefully than one might expect the badger to be capable of, he reached inside and began to scrape out the brain through the eye sockets.

Upon finding that he was unable to remove a large chunk near the back, the mustelid calmly turned the bloodstained skull and carved a sizeable hole there and, upon a moment of thought, created a similar one in the top. Finally, he removed the remains of the brain and stood up, walking out of the cave. The decapitated, wingless body was left for the scavengers.

The badger blinked as he moved out into the sunlight, making his way down to a waterfall and a large lake to wash the skull. He reached the water's edge and crouched, washing and scrubbing the skull clean with a piece of dried sponge that he'd picked up during a trip to the western shores.

A noise caught his attention. It was the sound of somebeast clearing their throat.

"Ahem, do you know how hard you were to locate sir?" The voice belonged to a small, but rough looking, weasel. He was accompanied by at least 15 other beasts, of mixed species and evidently military.

The badger growled and turned with his eyes narrowed.

"Name and why you look for me. Also how know where I am. Then fuck off." He stated simply.

"Now, Sir Tailor, I have a proposition for you... My name is Ambassador Eret of Odigin. We knew how to find you easily... You tend to leave a rather obvious and destructive trail... But you were bloody hard to actually find..."

The larger mammal nodded with a slight smile "I enjoy the process of destruction... Tell proposition quickly now. Or I destroy you. All of you." He grinned, looking around at the small army.

The ambassador smiled back "So, I have heard and I have no doubt you could, but I know that you are a hunter, no...?"

"I live for the hunt and the kill"

"Well then... I have a challenge that I know you will find difficult to refuse. Also, if you do well, the rewards that the Lady of my city bestows upon you would be great..."

"What is the challenge...?" The badger asked, clearly interested.

Eret smiled. He had him. Blood Tailor was about to be hired and, from what he had been told, no beast escaped from Blood Tailor...

Corvus Donnelly was reasonably well off. He certainly wasn't poor and was capable of living in some luxury, but he most certainly wasn't rich and (although he wouldn't have them anyway) afford servants.

Despite this high status among the poor and low status among the rich, he was well liked by just about anybeast that met him. He had charm, kindness, intelligence, confidence and sophistication, but there was one thing. Of all the beasts that had met him, hardly any could say they truly_ **knew**_ him. Even some of his oldest friends were completely clueless to whom, exactly, the real Corvus might be, but of course, they didn't often realise that.

The pine marten, however, knew lots about them. A glance could tell him a lot about a beast, and he knew details about them that they might not even realise.

Corvus strode among the stalls of the market as he shopped for fish. A pastime that he did not enjoy particularly, but still, he did enjoy the taste once it was cooked, and Giles, an acquaintance of his, a mole who was also an excellent chef (worthy of cooking for the Lady on two separate occasions), had promised a favour.

The marten stopped by a stall as he found a fresh looking trout and enquired to the otter vendor on the price.

"How much is it?" He asked.

"Um... 3 bronze..." The otter replied with a sigh. Clearly business wasn't too good. Corvus nodded handing over a silver coin and taking the fish, wrapping it in some bark parchment.

"Keep the change." He smiled, walking off. The otter couldn't believe his luck. He had more than he'd made over the last week.

"Bloody hellgates... Hey thanks!" He called, grinning as he watched the marten walk away through the crowds.

Corvus hadn't been walking long, before he heard someone call his name. He turned to see a young squirrel hurrying to catch up with him.

"Corvus, Corvus! Ah... I thought I'd never find you..." She gasped

The marten looked down, an eyebrow raised slightly. "Satya, is something wrong?"

"Um, we need to... talk somewhere more... private," She replied, still out of breath "It's urgent..."

"Okay, come. We can talk at the house."

They walked, slowly to allow Satya to regain her breath, to Corvus' house. It was not a very extravagant place; four rooms and one large upstairs room. Corvus led into the dining room, at the back of the heavy, brick structure and sat upon an old willow chair, inviting the squirrel to do the same.

"So, what was it that was so urgent?"

"It's about John... They've arrested him..."

"What? When did this happen and why?!"

"Well... They figured that... Well, he's an inventor and The Wraith always seems to have access to whatever technology that The Lady's own scientists have come up with..."

"So they're arresting all the inventors that have access to official technology..." The marten finished the sentence.

"I wasn't sure what to do... They're holding them all until one of them confesses that they know who The Wraith is..."

Corvus shook his head. "None of them know... I can swear to that... There are only three beasts who know that; me, you and Retta."

"So what do we do?"

"Go and find Retta... We'll think of something..."

Satya nodded and scampered away. Corvus rose and walked over to an old armchair, sat in the corner of the room. He moved it forwards and felt along the wall until he found a small lump. Grabbing it between his paw fingers, he tugged it slowly and a small rectangular piece of the wall swivelled to create a flap into a tiny darkened room. He felt the floor, and finding two small holes, lifted a tiny square of it up to reveal a box. The lid pulled back and there, on top of the cloak, the blood red mask stared hollowly up at him.

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Author: Eheh. Okay, I must admit that I feel the chapters are not quite the quality I had wished them to be... I shall just have to keep at it. Anyway... I am uncertain as to the rating at the moment... To my mind, this chapter doesn't really warrant an 'R' rating, yet I believe that some may find it offensive... The mild gore and swearing don't really seem to scream 'R' at me, but if you should feel the rating needs to be boosted up, then let me know. For now, I have left it at a pg-13. 


	4. Four

Disclaimer: I don't own Redwall or Mossflower or anything created by Brian Jacques, because he owns that. I own the OC's, and any town that came from my mind.

* * *

Farda Ryut sat in her large dining hall. The glittering brightness of gold shone all around the jill, light glinting off from the very walls and their expansive mirrors, filling the large room with light, yet the stoat's mood was far from light.

She sat upon the splendidly decorated, throne-like main chair, her head lowered, absorbed in thought. The hall was devoid of any other beast, yet she spoke into the air, discussing and replying in a conversation that did not seem to exist.

"I have tried so much to rid myself of this 'Wraith', yet all previous attempts have failed... I am loosing my hold over this city..." Her voice flared, angry and frustrated. Of course, no audio reply was sounded, yet within the dark recesses of her mind, a dark, hiss of a whisper made its opinion known.

"Do not raise your voice to me! You realise that I could end your days..." It rasped "I can always find another to aid my purpose..."

Farda frowned darkly as she replied.

"I know... I know... It was not my place to question you, but what am I to do... These schemes of ours continue to fail and I grow weary of it all. How can I be sure that hiring this badger hunter will work?"

"Because it must! Blood Tailor is skilled in his work... I have watched him since his birth. I have been within him as I am now within you... He will complete his task!"

The Lady nodded simply, breathing in sharply as she rubbed her aching head.

"Fine, fine... I trust your judgement my Lord. Forgive me for doubting in you, it will not happen again, Master Badrang..."

"Good," Came the hissed reply "Martin's 'Wraith' shall soon meet their end, whoever they are..."

Farda sighed as she felt the intrusion exit from her mind and her thoughts were once again her own. She rubbed at her forehead once more and sat back into her chair closing her eyes to enjoy the rare moment of peace.

Three sharp taps at the dining room door ended her relaxation abruptly and a servant's voice announced "My Lady? Ambassador Eret has returned with the hunter you requested."

The Lady ran her claws through her headfur, looking up at the decorated ceiling in frustration. "Fine, fine... Tell them I will see them within the hour." She called.

"Yes, my Lady." Pawsteps growing fainter told her of the departure of the servant. The jill stood and made her way over to a lavish looking sofa, taking one of the cream coloured cushions. She buried her face into it, her claws tearing the golden thread at the edges, a muffled scream ejecting from her throat.

Having relieved some stress, the jill tore the cushion in two, throwing both pieces back onto the sofa and breathed in and out deeply, satisfied. Lady Farda exited through a door in the side of the room, heading up to her chamber to prepare to meet and negotiate with the legendary Blood Tailor, wondering what he might demand. She could not help but growl a little as she felt the familiar presence of Badrang returning to her mind.

"I have made some insurance plans..." His voice rasped cryptically, ignoring her annoyance.

In the darkness of the tiny room, Corvus was becoming the Wraith. Attached to the wall in front of him was an old carving; Martin the Warrior. Many seasons ago he had defended Mossflower, and before that, the North Lands, from great evils. Corvus knew the legend well. He remembered back to an event... a dream... that he had. It had been during a rough time, but the City Lord Dulan had been ruling. Martin had come to Corvus, he selected him as a champion, gave him skills that Corvus had not dreamt of having.

The Warrior mouse had chosen him to aid Dulan and defend the city; to stop the evils within it. But not even Martin had seen through the distractions to the real evils. Those tragic events that The Wraith was too late to stop. Dulan was assassinated. Farda became Lady. Now, to defend his city, Corvus had to go against its very ruler.

He donned his costume with a ceremonial significance. This identity had come from Martin and the spirits themselves... It was special, something truly sacred. Each component was added slowly and with respect. The red trousers with the black stitching, the weapons belt with his rapier (named and engraved with the word 'Dragonfly') and his custom curved small throwing daggers, the dark lightweight armour underneath it all, the maroon tunic, the black boots and the scarlet cloak were all subject to this ceremony. Most importantly and finally Corvus donned his mask. The two holes filling with his amber eyes, the rest of the top half of his face remained hidden beneath the scarlet red fabric.

The Scarlet Wraith was ready. He closed up the little room, completely hiding its existence and walked to another room; his kitchen. Corvus bent down near the corner and gently twisted what looked like one of the nails holding a cupboard together. A rope attached to an axel within a secret compartment of the cupboard relaxed and, in a cupboard further along, a wooden trap door opened to reveal a stone staircase leading below the house. The marten opened this cupboard and stepped in, closing it behind him quickly. He descended the staircase, pushing the trap door up as he went and causing the rope to go taught again.

After a flight of two stone steps down a narrow shaft, Corvus found himself with stone room, furnished only by an archery target, two screens and three combat-practice dummies and lighted by two torches. There was one at each side, North and South, of the rather expansive space. Two tiny channels above these acted as chimneys, and, as Corvus had worked out from objects that occasionally came down them, connected to the cities landfill dump. This was good because it meant that any smells or smoke that the torches produced were unnoticed.

Leading from the stone room was a cave-like passage that, after about 300 yards, exited, through a heavily overgrown hole, behind a waterfall on the outskirts of the city.

Corvus sat on one of the dummies, set on its side. He waited. Soon enough his keen whiskers picked up a disturbance and his sharp ears heard the two beasts approaching down the tunnel. Satya and the otter, Retta had arrived. He nodded as they entered, saying nothing yet. The pair went behind a screen each and the marten waited for them to be ready. Already, in his mind, plans were forming for the rescue. He hoped they would work.

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A: Well, rather short I feel, but still, it leads on nicely for the next part. I'm afraid I have been watching too much Zorro for inspiration... Oh well. I hope you enjoyed it and, I know, a bit –too- descriptive about the Wraith's lair, but I wanted to explain it fully.


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